


she put her love down soft and sweet

by hihoplastic



Series: The Worst Witch Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-28 00:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13259640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihoplastic/pseuds/hihoplastic
Summary: When she’s imagined this before - and she has, imagined, hoped, prayed - she was always the shy one, the tentative one, hands trembling - and they are, almost violently - kisses unsure.  She doesn’t expect herself to back Pippa against her bedroom door, doesn’t expect to be the one drawing breathless kiss after breathless kiss from swollen lips.





	she put her love down soft and sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MatildaSwan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/gifts).



> \- for @matildaswan, who requested "hicsqueak + i missed you so much + i'll always love you"  
> \- title from hozier's "work song"

When she’s imagined this before - and she has, imagined, hoped, prayed - she was always the shy one, the tentative one, hands trembling - and they are, almost violently - kisses unsure.  She doesn’t expect herself to back Pippa against her bedroom door, doesn’t expect to be the one drawing breathless kiss after breathless kiss from swollen lips.  She’s always imagined herself, helpless under Pippa’s touch, rather than the other way around - Pippa’s low moans in her ear and Pippa, weak-kneed, clinging to her shoulders to stay upright.

Hecate’s hands are gentle, still - she can’t fathom touching Pippa with anything less than the reverence she deserves, and part of her knows it isn’t quite right, the near worshipful way she kisses her. Pippa has her faults, and Hecate isn’t blind to them, but she can’t help feeling she’s been given a precious gift, terrified of marring something so bright and pure with her own darkness.

She’s aware she doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve a second chance or Pippa’s soft breath against her cheek, doesn’t deserve the way Pippa whispers her name, almost like a benediction. But she can’t stop herself, can’t begin to pull away or resurrect the walls Pippa had torn down, with nothing more than a shaky breath and a question,

“You won’t leave again, will you?”

She’d felt herself shatter, felt like her bones were breaking and her poor, withered excuse for a heart crack like glass.

 _Never,_  she’d wanted to say, but the air had sieved from her lungs and her throat went raw and all she could do was lean forward and kiss her, kiss Pippa, kiss her to tell her she wasn’t going anywhere, not this time, not ever again.

Pippa had been startled, eyes wide and wet when Hecate drew away, an apology on her tongue that Pippa silenced with her mouth pressed against Hecate’s again, and again, and again, and now they’re here, flush against one another, Pippa’s hands scrabbling for purchase around Hecate’s neck, Hecate’s wrists pushing her bright pink skirt higher up her thighs.

“Is this alright?” She doesn’t recognize her own voice, more breath than words, and Pippa nods but it isn’t enough, not for this.  “Pippa.”

“Yes, yes,” she says, and then, “ _please,_ ” almost broken, and Hecate swallows the sound with a fierce kiss before sinking to her knees, pushing the fabric of Pippa’s skirt higher up her waist.

She glances up after the first careful press of her lips between Pippa’s thighs, feels her heart stutter at the way Pippa’s eyes have fallen shut, lips parted, breathing heavy as she rests her weight against the door.

“Your hair,” she manages, and Hecate waves a hand with little ceremony, lets the strands fall loose around her shoulders, immediately feels Pippa’s hands curl against her scalp, pressing her closer to where she wants to be.

Another flick of her wrist and the barrier between them is gone, and Hecate presses a kiss to Pippa’s clit, her tongue against her folds, devotes herself to the sounds that Pippa makes, high and airy, the feel of Pippa’s thighs trembling under her palms, the smell and taste of her, so like she’d imagined, and not at all.

It isn’t a dream, not this time. She won’t wake alone with her hands fisted in the sheets and sweat along the back of her neck and a yawning emptiness in her chest that never quite healed.

She doesn’t know what comes next, but tells herself that it’s enough, this is enough, for the way Pippa tugs at her hair, urging her closer, the pleas that fall from her lips, Hecate’s name, over and over until she comes, knees buckling, hand skipping to grasp at Hecate’s shoulder.

She holds her steady, rises swiftly to her feet and takes her weight easily, cups a hand behind her head and murmurs softly. Pippa clings to her, face buried in Hecate’s neck, voice choked as she manages, “I missed you so much.”

It seems a silly thing to say, given they were never like this before, never this close, this abandoned to each other. But Hecate understands, feels it keenly, and her eyes sting.

“I love you,” Hecate murmurs back, before she can think, before her traitorous heart can catch up with her head. Pippa leans back against the wall and stares at her, expression almost disbelieving.

“Hiccup—”

Hecate shakes her head. “I’ve always—” she starts, stops, feels the past press down on them, the gulf of years trying to reassert itself, and she won’t let it. Never again. “I’ll always love you,” she promises instead, and expects nothing.

It’s relief, almost, the words she’s felt so keenly for so long finally between them, and whatever happens she’ll have this, these precious moments, before the fall.

And then Pippa kisses her, so soft, settles a hand on Hecate’s cheek so tenderly.

“My Hecate,” she whispers, and the possession in her voice, in her words, makes Hecate feel weightless and bright.

“Yours.”


End file.
